Necromancy
by Concealed Convict
Summary: On his fifteenth birthday, Harry's life was drastically changed. Now, years later, weilding a power thought lost to time, he'll fight for his survival and the people around him.


Necromancy  
>Prologue<p>

The Chamber of Secrets did seem to give off the right feeling. I may not have had the same flair or inclination for the dramatic that Voldemort or Dumbledore had, but there were just a few instances that required a little extra something special, purely to make the ambience match the occasion. My first foray into necromancy was one of them.

It wasn't anything major; I wasn't foolish enough to think I could start off by raising people, or even reanimating the giant, half-rotten basilisk carcass that still lay unmoving on the floor. I spared the corpse a glance as I walked through the middle of the Chamber, bathed in the ethereal glow of the dull green lights which sprung up around the pillars as I passed, and reminded myself to renew the bubble charm I'd placed around it. Sections of the usually off-white hemisphere were starting to shine, as sure a sign as any that the charm was weakening, and I did not want to find out what dead basilisk smelled like. The only other source light in the room was from my own body. Dark purple, almost black veins pulsed and writhed beneath my skin in a chaotic dance to the beat of my heart that only I could see.

I examined the runic circles and glyphs on the floor one last time, just to be safe, even though I knew they were perfect after double- and triple-checking them near enough every day for the past three weeks. The design was simple, with three runic circles: two within one larger one. Each circle was perfectly symmetrical, made of a bastardised combination of Sumerian, Egyptian and Old Babylonian. I'll admit it wasn't solely my work, Dumbledore had helped.

Next my eyes were drawn to the charred skeleton of a rat lying in the centre of one of the smaller circles. Contrary to the most common speculation about necromancy, the bodies of the recently deceased were much, much harder to work with. Skeletons worked best; you just had to will your magic into allowing the bones to move without the added difficulty of trying to get the muscles or nervous system to work. More recent corpses also retained more of their own free will, so they were less likely to accept your control. Of course, skeletons had their disadvantages as well. Primarily, they were orders of magnitude weaker.

I stopped the inner monologue of everything I knew about necromancy – which after four years of research was quite a bit – and stepped into the unoccupied smaller circle, being careful to avoid smudging any of the chalk markings. The veins beneath my skin practically thrashed as my heartbeat quickened. Four years of intense work had gone into this and it was, hopefully, coming to fruition before the next few minutes past. I don't think I could be blamed for getting a little nervous. This had taken over my whole life for the past number of years, and the slightest mistake could have disastrous consequences which I didn't need to remind myself of.

I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from forehead, concentrated on what little Occlumency I knew and began to chant.

The world around me distorted. Colours and noise disappeared. No longer could I hear the rats scuttling about, kept away from the runes by a magical barrier, but a thick mist, the same purple as my veins, obscured my vision. As I chanted the mist started to gather around the other small circle, allowing me to see the room more clearly again but I paid it no attention. The skeleton of the rat rose slowly, until it was hidden by the mist. The fog formed a sphere before it started rotating, faster and faster. The whirlwind shrunk in on itself as time slowed down and reality strained against the magic I was working.

Moments later, the whirlwind collapsed and all that was left was the rat, with a hazy outline of dark purple. I drew the dagger from its sheath on my thigh and drew it quickly across the palm of my left hand. I held my palm facing upwards, allowing the blood to form a small pool before turning my hand and allowing a few drops to fall upon the runic circle I was standing in.

As soon as the blood touched the ancient language, each of the symbols began to burn with a green flame. Suddenly the runes flashed a brilliant white. I raised my arms to my eyes to shield them a little as reality screamed in protest at what I was attempting to do.

The sound of wind rushing cut off abruptly, replaced by the normal noises of the Chamber. I lowered my arms, and blinked away the spots, glad to be able to see colour again. The circles had vanished completely, as if they'd never existed, but standing perfectly still, not two metres away from me, was the rat skeleton. I smiled, focused on the faint pressure in my mind, and will it to move forward. I waited a second, two, before the rat raised its paw and staggered forward a couple of paces. I needed to improve my control, I knew that, but it'd been expected. The rat raised its nose and I watched as it twitched. Seeing the bones move by themselves in such a fashion was almost humorous.

I allowed myself to chuckle a little, but that was the entire lapse in concentration the rat needed. The skeletal frame darted forwards towards me and I frowned as I stomped a booted foot down on it. I definitely needed to work on my control. The body of the rat twitched once before its bones crumbled into dust, as the magic sustaining it escaped through the multitude of cracks in its broken body.

I took a second to admire the dagger I still held. It was crafted from the bone of a dementor, forged in a dragons flame and heat-treated in the chilled blood of a phoenix. Shaped like the Blade of Isis, it had two symmetrical blades facing away from each other. I placed it back in its sheath and flicked my wrist, releasing my wand from the holster. I slowly traced the cut I'd made on my palm with the wand, muttering continuously under my breath, and watched as the wand sealed the skin back up as it passed. Another spell, silent this time, cleared the residual blood from my palm.

I swayed slightly on my feet, I'd burned up more of my magic than I'd thought I would, but quickly steadied myself and started to leave the chamber. At the entrance, a wave of my wand and a moment of intent caused the flights to die instantly, plunging the Chamber into darkness.

I made good time through the school, managing to avoid the few students who'd chosen to remain over the yuletide holidays. I didn't see any ghosts, but that wasn't a surprise either. Since the incident on my fifteenth birthday the majority of them shunned and avoided me at all costs. I suppose their reaction was a natural survival instinct, if you can call it that for a ghost, but I couldn't help but be a little offended by the way I hadn't seen Nearly Headless Nick at all since the end of my fourth year.

I strolled into Dumbledore's office without knocking, but paused just in the doorway, allowing it to swing shut behind me. I'd been expecting the old man, but nearly everyone who'd helped out with the project appeared to be waiting in his office. Lupin stood off to the side of the room, at the window. I knew him well enough to know that he'd have alternated between pacing in front of it and staring out of it. Judging by his hair, he'd also taken to running his hand through it. Hermione was sitting near him, chewing softly on her hair, although she didn't realise it. Flitwick sat at the far side of the room and was trying to stop his right leg from bouncing nervously, without much luck. Dumbledore sat serenely behind his desk, looking as calm as ever, but the usual twinkle in his eyes was absent. He merely raised a questioning eyebrow at me, but it was Snape who actually spoke up.

"I presume that, as we're currently here and you haven't destroyed reality, that you were successful," he drawled as he turned to face me. He'd been sitting perfectly still, looking almost calmer than he ever did and his voice was completely steady. To most other people, he would've looked wholly at ease, but everyone in the room recognised it as a sign that he'd retreated behind his Occlumency barriers. "Or has that legendary foolhardiness of your's finally succumbed to rationale?" I knew he'd have been unable to resist the barb. We might have been able to work together, but we still weren't exactly best friends.

I might not have had a flair for the dramatic, but the melodramatic was a sure-fire way of annoying him. If he was going to make a jab at me, I was going to try pissing him off as well. "Gentlemen," I began, and paused. I saw Hermione's slight frown, but ignored it. If I'd decided to add the 'and lady' now, I'd ruin the effect I was going for. I raised my hands and slowly said "I am a god." Snape grimaced slightly but smiles broke out on the faces of everyone else. Lupin shook his head slightly, but looked as if he was holding back laughter and the twinkle returned to Dumbledore's eyes.

I conjured a chair and sat down. It wasn't quite as comfortable as Dumbledore would've been able to make it, but it was his forte, and I don't think I did too badly, compared to how it usually went anyway. Finesse was not my style for most aspects of magic. Sheer brute power worked better for me, and I wasn't afraid to admit it. Why use a piercing curse that the enemy could dodge quite easily when I could overpower a banisher? I reclined back as the discussion started, making myself as comfortable as I could; I knew we'd be talking well into the night at least.

I was well aware that I still had quite a bit to go before I could turn this into a useable 'power he knows not' but today had marked a major milestone. We'd travelled the world to information we'd needed, and pieced it together painfully slowly, but it had all come together nicely. Now it was down to me to refine it. All that meant was that I'd be doing an awful lot of practicing.

* * *

><p>Yeah, it's been a while, but this just wanted to be written. Not much to say, but future chapters will be longer and I don't own Harry Potter. That's the first and only disclaimer of this story. Even though I won't put it in other chapters, it still applies.<p>

I want to hear your views, so leave a review. Or feel free to send me a PM; all of them are much appreciated, especially any constructive criticism. Flamers can be aware that I'll might well call them out publicly if I can think of anything witty enough to reply with.

Thanks,  
>C-C<p> 


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